


Fire Lilies, and You

by cosmicmatcha



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Bending is flirting, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-25 14:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30090669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicmatcha/pseuds/cosmicmatcha
Summary: The Day of Black Sun goes horribly wrong, and Katara is captured as a Fire Nation hostage. But the lines of being a pawn and something more begin to blur, when Fire Lord Zuko finds he can't stay away from the one thing he's telling himself he can't have.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	1. Prologue: Failure

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh, my very first Avatar fic, featuring Zutara of course. Please let me know what you think - I love to hear everyone's feedback/thoughts! This is also posted on my FF.net account. 
> 
> I know this first "chapter" is short, but it's a prologue, so bear that in mind. Thank you!

Everything has gone so horribly wrong. Everything.

Katara staring at the dank cell wall in front of her is profound testament to the fact. She tips her head back, closing her eyes, willing herself to not think of how everything had turned on its head.

The worst part, she realizes, is not knowing where everyone else is. Sokka, her father, Toph, Suki, so many others... _Aang_. She rubs the heels of her hands into her eyes, desperately wishing the tears would stop their merciless trek down her cheeks. This isn't the time to cry. She has to figure out how she is going to escape, and where her friends are.

"You're Katara…" she says between sniffs, "of the Southern Water Tribe. You will...you will get out." She takes in a few deep breaths, and tells herself to hold her head up high, even when the enemy can't see you.

The sound of muffled voices perks her ears, and Katara rises to her feet, deciding that it is best to face whatever threat standing upright.

Two Fire Nation guards materialize before her, and she can see the scorn on their faces plain as day.

"Look, Jin. She's trying to be brave," the woman sneers, unfolding her arms to grab at the ring of keys hanging around her waist. "I swear, these backwater bumpkins thinking they have the upperhand..." she mutters, flicking nonchalantly through the keys on the ring.

"Mm," Jin replies. "Hurry up, Taya. I was supposed to be on my lunch break a half hour ago!" He snaps.

Katara is shocked by the complete banality of topics they discuss while taking their sweet time looking for the key to her cell... _don't they have a master key_? Katara thinks belatedly, and then realizes it doesn't even matter. Because if they're personally coming to get her, then it can't be good, right?

Fear tightens like a fist around her heart, and her pulse quickens. She knows she's cornered, the rat in a cage, but damn if she doesn't feel the urge to fight. Furthermore, she knows she is _completely_ helpless. The dank smell the Fire Nation guards always seem to complain about is music to Katara's ears. It means water lingers in the walls, the floors.

And a waterbender is in their midst, as weakened as she is.

As soon as the Fire Nation guard, Taya, unlocks the cell door, Katara is on the offensive. She draws from the moisture soaking in the walls, the ground, the air, and with startling precision, has them fly in a coordinated attack, turning them to ice as they sail toward their target.

Taya yelps, feeling her flesh get nicked in dozens of spots at once, some of the ice pinging loudly off her helmet. Jin is no better for it and has the reaction time of Appa after eating a particularly large helping of his favorite fruits.

Katara, as lightheaded as she feels, wastes no time in skidding out of the cell and running in the direction the guards came from. She knows she is navigating blindly, but an opportunity presented itself, and Katara isn't about to pass it up if she doesn't have to. Plans, it turns out, don't always go accordingly, even if you think you've accounted for every possible outcome ten times over.

"SOMEONE STOP HER!" Taya howls, cursing angrily as she wipes blood off her face and arms. "That little waterbending bitch!"

The words barely register and Katara is halfway up the steps when firelight dances on the wall, steps echoing ahead of her, suggesting capture is coming sooner than she can blink.

_No, no, no, no, not again…_

But Katara is weak, she knows this. The invasion attempt had left her drained and bruised, and in the aftermath of an explosion, she had lost her last vestiges of consciousness.

And the water in the underground cells, while there, is harder and harder to drag out, even at the peak of her abilities.

Part of being a good tactician, Katara's father had once said, much to Sokka's chagrin, is knowing when you have hit the wall.

And well, Katara is finding that she is hitting the wall, both metaphorically and literally.

Taya and Jin have seemingly recovered and are bounding up the hall, while voices grow louder as they descend the stairs. Katara is most assuredly stuck in the middle.

Sooner than she can scream 'air bison!' she is caught. Several arms reach for her in what Katara feels is a bit of an exaggeration, because as good as a waterbender she is, it's really just her. And she's weak, tired, and all out of options.

Her hands are deftly grabbed and tied, so that if the desire to waterbend gets a hold of her, she will be sorely disappointed.

As the guards shove and roughly move her along, Katara picks out distinct bits of conversation that sends her heart pounding so loudly, it's as if the sound of great waves are overcoming her, sending her further and further away from shore and into murky depths. She hears murmurs of what ' _happened to the last prisoners_ ' and ' _the last invasion attempt was over a century ago_ ' and ' _who would be so stupid?_ ' but none ring louder than the guard's voice who states what she least wants to hear.

"The Fire Lord wishes to have a personal audience with this one."


	2. Of Tea and Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, here is a quicker update than will be typical, only because FF.net has a few chapters posted ahead, and I'd like the two platforms to be on the same pace.
> 
> Thank you so, so much for those who have left comments, kudos, bookmarked, subscribed, and just read along. I hope you all continue to follow along and feel free to leave feedback - I love it, and I try my best to respond to everyone.

The halls of the Fire Nation Palace pass before Katara in a blur of reds, golds, and black. She hardly has time to process, given that there's the more pressing issue of being brought before the Fire Lord, and she's completely outnumbered. A lone waterbender squaring off with not just any firebender, but the Fire Lord himself? Katara doesn't like the odds. But she also knows in times such as these, she has to face the challenge head on.

They are soon behind a large, intimidating set of double doors, heavy and intricately designed. Katara sees the looming figures of dragons embossed on the door, seemingly frozen in a dance with flames spitting from their mouths. It's beautiful and deadly all in one, and Katara imagines she is facing a dragon of her own.

With little ceremony, Katara is thrown forward, stumbling but catching herself. She will not fall to her knees like they expect. She is Southern Water Tribe, and that will never be stripped from her.

It takes her a moment to let her gaze fall on the Fire Lord sitting before her.

He is every bit as intimidating as she expects, has heard. Despite his young age (he can't be more than a few years older than her), he has a look about him that is hard and battleworn. Katara thinks it largely has to do with the scar that mars the left side of his face. The gold of his eyes makes him look that much more like a dragon.

Flames dance behind him, casting his shadow about the room to cut an even more imposing figure. His jet black hair is pulled up into the style of many Fire Nation men, and it makes him look all the more severe. Katara vaguely wonders how does one so young hold the mantle of bitter resolve so easily? She can tell by the way he looks at her that he sees nothing more than a fly, a maggot that needs to be crushed.

Well, the feeling is mutual at this point.

Katara, as afraid as she is, isn't about to turn her gaze off of him once she's made eye contact. That's never been what she's about. Conflict is something she has come to expect as an inevitability in life, especially when you've traveled with the Avatar for as long as she has.

"You're the waterbender." His voice rings out sharp and clear, more boyish than she expects.

Katara opts to stay silent. It's a quiet rebellion, but it's almost all she has left.

He studies her, curiosity and irritation in tandem, before he rises to his feet. He is tall and imperious, the makings of a Fire Lord.

"I can't imagine you don't talk, Water Tribe girl. After all, how does a rebellion spread if the Avatar's right hand doesn't say a word?"

Katara inhales a sharp huff of air, but continues to decline to comment. He can say what he wants, but she's not interested in playing games with him, rising to his bait.

"I know you didn't act alone. We caught a few others," he states, conversationally, as if it really doesn't matter whether Katara decides to have dialogue with him. "Not the Avatar, because that would've been too lucky," he grits out, the first bit of emotion coloring his tone. Katara inwardly smiles at this and feels her heart stutter, elated to know Aang is not here.

"But you, _Katara_?" Her name sounds like venom on his lips. "Well, I suppose that's the next best thing. Really, getting any one of the Avatar's inner circle is a small victory. If the Avatar is so dead set on achieving _peace and harmony_ , well, I can't imagine he'd leave you behind."

Suddenly, Katara feels the plume of hope rising in her evaporate. Aang would never leave her behind, this much she knows she can count on, just as the sun will rise and the moon will chase after it. _I'm such an idiot, I'm such an idiot._ And Aang, the even more lovable idiot that he is, will insist on rescuing her. It doesn't matter that before they set out with their invasion plan, they had all vowed to do what it took to get out if the situation turned. And turn it did. Katara is thankful that it seems most of those closest to her have escaped, though she does wonder about who else was caught in the Fire Nation's grasp. Worse yet, she wonders what Aang will do, will risk, to get her out.

A small part of her, terrified to give the thought a voice, whispers ' _what if he doesn't come back at all?_ '

"You're not going to catch him," she says, startled at how throaty and dry her voice is, as though she hasn't spoken in months. But she breaks her vow of silence quickly, because she is desperate to show the Fire Lord that Aang has not been caught by the jaws of the Fire Nation, and he won't be. "He isn't stupid enough to risk everything for me. He knows that, _I_ know that." He kind of is, but the Fire Lord doesn't need to know that.

The Fire Lord looks unperturbed, as though Katara's words disintegrate as soon as they make contact with air.

"You must be pretty stupid, all things considered," the Fire Lord eventually says, and Katara feels her face flush with embarrassment. _What a pig!_ "The Avatar will come," he says, as though he is reciting a statement he has emblazoned on his brain. "Whether or not you accept that doesn't concern me."

Katara stares openly with enough anger in her eyes, it's conceivable she could be a firebender in her own right.

"Let's not waste any more time," the Fire Lord announces, stepping closer to her, so that they're barely a foot apart. "You're going to assist me in capturing the Avatar once and for all. I've heard the stories, and wherever the Avatar goes, his faithful _friends_ are always by his side. The Avatar I've heard about leaves no one behind."

"I'm not going to help you," Katara states mulishly, keenly aware she is speaking with someone who could have her executed on the spot, if he so desired. But the knowledge of being the Avatar's bait gives one an inflated sense of self rather quickly, and she knows he won't get rid of her. He's been trying to catch Aang for the better half of a year, and he's finally closer than ever before. He won't get rid of her. Hopefully.

The Fire Lord almost appears to roll his eyes. Very un-noble of him.

"I thought you might say something to that effect, but it doesn't matter. I've accounted for that. I was informed we have a Kyoshi Warrior in our prisons. And a Water Tribe chief." It's all he needs to say. Katara understands the threat lurking behind his words. Act out, rebel, and Suki and her father will pay the price.

A part of Katara wonders if the Fire Lord is bluffing, telling a lie to keep her docile. But until she knows for certain, she cannot take risks without any thought to the consequences. Again, Katara is reminded of how very wrong everything has gone. What was supposed to be a flawless plan, with the Day of Black Sun watching over them, the Fire Nation had been not only prepared to receive them, but ready to overtake them.

And once again, Katara curses herself for getting captured. She should've been more aware of her proximity to Aang.

"There are worse fates to be resigned to in the Fire Nation," the Fire Lord whispers, too softly for anyone else to hear besides her. Katara doesn't agree. Being caught is being caught. Being a bargaining chip is being a bargaining chip. He could say whatever he wanted, but the simple fact is, Katara has condemned Aang. Aang's own steadfast commitment to peace and balance has condemned him.

"Take her away," he announces loudly, retreating back to the dais and as simple as that, Katara is whisked away, insignificant again.

* * *

Katara is back in her cell, and this time, her hands remain bound. They have learned to treat her with a little less humor.

Time blends into nothing but the monotony of water dripping, the sounds of small rodents burrowing away, and Katara's breathing.

She dreams often of being out in the open air, waves of crystal blue water lapping at her feet. She can feel the water working with her, not against her, flowing through her body, as though it's an extension of her very being.

Sometimes she dreams so vividly, it's as though she can feel Appa's soft fur beneath her fingertips. In dreams that leave her happier in the moment but mournful when she wakes, she can see Aang's smile, feel his hand wrapped in hers and believe that for just a moment, they have emerged on the other side of things, whole and happy.

But it never lasts, the cold cell walls closing in around her every time she wakes up.

She isn't sure how many days pass by, the monotony only broken up by guards stopping by at various points throughout the day to make sure she has some form of food, no matter how unappealing. Katara thinks about going on a hunger strike, but by the next meal, abandons the plan because more than anything, she needs to keep her wits about her. It would be nice if they untied her hands though, but as it is, she is resigned to holding the bowl of unidentifiable soup and noodles as best she can.

Is this it, though? Is she just supposed to sit around, not act out, and eventually hope her absence spurs Aang to come back? Is that really the Fire Lord's plan? It's kind of flimsy if she thinks about it long enough. But then, all he needs to do is wait for Aang to plot out his rescue mission and execute it. She's hoping that wherever they are, they are safe. And she hopes Suki and her father are safe too. She blinks back tears when she thinks of her father, because the thought of losing another parent is more than Katara can bear.

Katara stares at the wall, wondering if there's anything she can do, any escape she can make. The Fire Nation is notoriously difficult to get into, this much she can attest to after recent events, but it leads her to believe that it's probably also a challenge to leave...if you're not a civilian.

And well, Katara supposes she's in the camp of 'war criminal' or something or other.

It has a kind of nice ring to it, Katara thinks with mutinous enjoyment.

Her round the clock musings are broken when the steps arrive outside the normal rhythm of her scheduled meals and status checks.

She rises to attention, curious and guarded all at once.

Standing in front of her, she is surprised to see it is General Iroh, the Dragon of the West.

His eyes, though the same as the young Fire Lord's, are not unkind, this Katara immediately notices. She has seen him before, and he has always struck her as an oddity amongst the usual firebenders she's run into. She has seen the way those like Zhao and Azula fight, viciousness and precision and force wrapped into one single being, but Iroh...well, if Katara is honest, his stature already throws her off.

"My, my," his voice is calm and serene. "I'm afraid my nephew is not the best at hosting."

Katara's stare widens, and she almost bursts with a laugh. Hosting? _Hosting_? It's so absurd, the idea, that Katara can't tell if he is intending to make her laugh, or if she's the butt of the joke.

But something inside her decides to play along, because why not? If she had to show any inkling of respect to any Fire Nation individual right now, it would be Iroh.

"No, he kind of sucks at it, actually," Katara cracks a rare grin.

They share an easy silence, Katara faintly wondering if she's about to have an out of body experience because this is definitely not on the list of outcomes she expected.

Iroh then gestures to a guard who dutifully produces a teapot and two porcelain teacups. From where, Katara doesn't see, and she is immediately a little suspicious.

Soon enough, the guard is opening the door to Katara's cell, and rather than having her walk out, Iroh walks in, carrying the teapot and cups with him.

Katara thinks that Sokka's cactus juice has _nothing_ on this. She must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Maybe she's been down in the cells for so long that she's lost her mind. It's possible.

But no, Iroh is there before her, all flesh and bone, real as ever. He pours her tea with complete respect for the art. The cup is then offered to her, and Katara, loathe as she is to admit it, finds herself gratefully accepting. Catching Katara's hesitant sniff of the steam furling from the tea, Iroh gives a gentle smile.

"It is ginseng - my favorite. Whenever I have a bad day, I find my troubles are largely soothed by a good cup of tea."

Katara smiles but doesn't really think tea is going to solve the problem here.

"Thank you...but I think I'm well past the point of having a bad day," she gestures haphazardly around the cell.

"No, I would say this is certainly beyond that point. You know, I often tell Zuko he needs to think carefully and explore all opportunities before jumping into action. He can be hotheaded, as much as he denies it."

Katara lowers her cup, as the way Iroh speaks suggests he has more he isn't telling.

"You're probably wondering why I am sitting here with you, drinking tea. Am I correct?"

Katara nods slowly.

He gives a hearty laugh. "You'll have to forgive an old man his sentiments. I suppose I miss having tea with my nephew, what with how busy he is. And you remind me so much of him."

Katara balks visibly at the comparison. She and the Fire Lord? Similar? Now she is definitely convinced the old man is making her the butt of the joke.

"I think you're mistaken," she replies, calmly but firmly.

"You and he would both agree," he inclines his head in acknowledgment. "But humor an old man - I hope in this, your differences are vast."

Katara purses her lips but makes no effort to stop him from continuing.

"Between you and me, I see no need for the Fire Nation to continue its conquest. Power is a dangerous thing, and too much of it, well...like a good pot of tea, it can only hold what it is designed to hold. Because if you pour too much water, it will spill over, uncontained and unable to be properly used." Katara thinks the man loves his tea a little too much. "Zuko is an honorable young man, I know it. But I believe he has lost his way. I know you may not believe me, but he was once much like you are now."

Katara wants to scoff, but even she knows to mind her manners around elders. "I don't know, General Iroh…" she sighs, looking back at the still reflection of her face in her teacup.

"Please, Iroh." He holds up a palm, crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes, and Katara thinks that as much as he seems to believe she and the Fire Lord are similar, he and his nephew could not be more different. She could almost believe Iroh was a waterbender, what with how serene he appears before her now. But she has heard the stories of the Dragon of the West, and she knows that the title is not lightly given but taken in blood and fire.

"I don't want this war to continue," he says, finally jumping straight to the point. "I see the potential the Avatar brings with him to restore balance and peace. Zuko seems to believe I am growing older and therefore only more senile. But I wonder if someone else could appeal to his senses?"

Katara lets the words sink in, and she immediately wants to laugh, mostly out of confusion. Perhaps she and Zuko could agree on one thing - Iroh _was_ getting a little senile. She and Zuko were enemies. Even if they had barely set eyes upon one another, she knew that standing with the Avatar was to stand in opposition to the Fire Nation.

"He would never listen to me. He can barely look at me!" It stings to voice the words aloud, not because she cares about what Zuko thinks, but because what the Fire Lord has displayed is the concentrated reminder of what the whole country seems to think of people like her.

And it reminds her of that day when she lost what felt like everything. The Fire Nation had taken her mother's life and told the rest of them to consider themselves lucky.

Luck, Katara belatedly realizes, has given her the opportunity to find the Avatar, join him on his journey for peace, and try to bring a precarious balance to the world. But it has also dropped her into a pit of vipers. That can't be lucky. Maybe her good fortune is all run out.

"He is ignorant," Iroh states, and it is the status of being his uncle and nothing more that lets him get away with it. "But he can learn. He will learn.

"Help me, Katara." There is a pleading edge in his voice, and it stirs something in her. Katara misses her father and Gran Gran keenly. "Help me show my nephew who he can truly be in all of this. He is chasing honor and glory that he will never receive, not through these means."

"How can I even help? I'm down here," she quietly responds. "I don't think I'm much inspiration, locked in a cell."

"Leave that part to me."

Katara looks away, unsure of what she is agreeing to. Is she agreeing? She supposes she is. And besides, for right now, this is a way out. Saying yes now doesn't mean anything later - it's not binding. Iroh should also look at the situation from her perspective - if he had been in her shoes, wouldn't he do the same?

But, as much as she tries to deny it, there is a part of Katara that is curious. Hopeful, even. Maybe, just maybe, Iroh is right. The Fire Lord is young, a man, but also still a boy, and perhaps some part of him can still see past the idea of fighting and bloodshed as the only options available to him.

Long after Iroh leaves, Katara stares up at the dark ceiling of her cell.

She wonders what version of Zuko Iroh has seen and known. She also wonders if this is all some bigger ploy to get her to let her guard down. But the look in Iroh's eyes had been sincere, something in Katara's gut just knows this to be true.

God, she hopes it is.

Otherwise, she'll be the biggest idiot in the history of idiots to lend a helping hand to the Fire Nation.

Katara falls into an uneasy slumber, plagued by dreams of dragons weaving through the skies, coiling around the moon, before opening their maws and unleashing ribbons of flame into the sea.


	3. Uninvited Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been following along! I really appreciate it. Hope you all continue to enjoy the story.

When Iroh said he would "take care of it," it turns out he has a very loose definition of what that entails.

Katara finds herself suddenly in a room - a _room_! - and it has a bed, a vanity, a low-set table, and more pillows than she knows what to do with. It is otherwise sparse with only two tapestries hanging up. Katara tells herself not to get comfortable, because after all, she is not a guest but a prisoner. They could dress up her cage, give her luxury, but they couldn't change the truth of the matter.

In any case, Katara is not about to deny herself some relaxation after being in a cell for nearly a week.

Except that the shouting match happening down the hall is not conducive to relaxing.

Curiosity getting the best of her as it always does, Katara trots over to the door and pokes her head out.

She sees Iroh and Fire Lord Zuko engaged in an explosive conversation, but it's really just Zuko who's doing all the gesticulating and yelling. Katara arches a brow, unsure of whether or not she's supposed to be hearing this, but when Zuko's scarred gaze lands on her, she knows with absolute clarity she is _not_.

" _YOU_!" He snarls, rounding on her like a bull in a china shop. It feels like these palace walls are suddenly too small and confined for the royal tantrum that's erupting from the Fire Lord. "Why the _hell_ are you upstairs here, in _my quarters_ , when you should be down in that CELL?!"

Katara has the good grace to flinch, but she holds his stare and decides to retort back, "Your uncle invited me up here." Hands on her hips, she looks like royalty herself. And maybe it was a little cruel to throw Iroh to the wolves, or rather, angry dragon lord in this case, but it _is_ the truth.

Zuko's temper easily ricochets off Katara and lands squarely back on Iroh. It's clear that he is at least _trying_ to reign it in around the elderly man, but Zuko is fighting a losing battle. "Uncle. Please. Just please...try to explain exactly _what_ you were thinking?" An exasperated tone tinges his voice as he rubs his fingers over his temples.

"She is very good company for tea!" Iroh gives out a hearty laugh. "Besides, this is no way to treat a guest." He is decidedly elusive when it comes to explaining why he does the things he does, and Katara guesses it has to do with the fact that Zuko wouldn't listen anyway so why waste air?

Iroh seems to be all about skipping permission and asking for forgiveness later.

It seems to work.

* * *

Katara has spent most of her first day in her room, alone. It is not a feeling she likes, this feeling of being isolated. There is solitude and then there is loneliness, and the absence of her friends only serves to highlight this. She misses Sokka being boisterous and loud and super annoying, the same way she misses Toph yelling ' _TWINKLE TOES_!' with exasperation when Aang messes up a step in his drills. She misses the chattering of Momo and the quiet presence of Appa. She misses the young air nomad who can light up a room just by smiling.

And, despite her greatest efforts, she thinks of Suki and her father, and all the others trapped in a Fire Nation prison. The Boiling Rock. It sounds ominous and scary the way all Fire Nation locations seem to sound, and it distresses her to think they are there and not here. With her.

She would give up almost anything to teleport to where they are, frightening prison or not. In some ways, this is even scarier to her, because she feels like all the lines are blurred. She appreciates what Iroh is hoping for, but it seems a little loony if she's being honest with herself. It's hard to feel and behave like a prisoner when she's lounging about in a room, hair freshly washed and styled, clothing foreign and strange but fashionable and high quality all the same.

Perhaps she feels scared because this all feels like a test.

Will the waterbender girl get too comfortable and fool herself into thinking she's got it better than she really does?

At some point, Katara expects the wool being pulled over her eyes will fall away, and she'll wake up in a cell again, back to square one and all the more humiliated for it.

But this kind of thinking will get her nowhere.

She has to think about what options she presently has.

If what Zuko says is true, and Suki, Hakoda, and some of the others are trapped in Boiling Rock, then she will just have to play it safer than she'd like. Otherwise, Katara feels rather secure in her waterbending prowess. She may not be the Avatar, and she may not have received the most rigorous training, but she is self-taught and all the more dangerous for it. Because Katara has never seen limits.

If you tell Katara ' _no_ ,' she says ' _watch me_.' If you tell Katara ' _you can't win_ ,' she says ' _let's make a bet_.' There is a certain kind of self-assuredness that has developed over the last few months, and Zuko is certainly stoking the flames for a challenge.

She'd like to kick his firebending butt.

It is not long after that a knock sounds at the door, and Katara hesitantly opens it to see a young woman standing there, dressed in the outfit of a servant. She is prim, proper, and very quiet.

She gives a deep bow, and Katara is a little uncomfortable by the gesture.

"The Fire Lord and General Iroh formally request your presence for dinner tonight." And then she walks off, not even sparing Katara a glance.

"Huh."

* * *

Dinnertime has arrived, and Katara actually thinks she's going to throw up. Like, really, _really_ throw up. She thinks that if she does, it better be in one of the nicer looking decorative vases. Because _fuck Fire Lord Zuko_ that's why.

"Good evening!" Iroh beams from his end of the table, already dishing out his plate. Interestingly enough, Katara notices the pair seem to serve themselves. "We are so glad you could join us tonight." The look on Zuko's face says the 'we' is debatable.

Well, as Katara had guessed earlier, it is indeed Iroh who is playing host, and Zuko who is glumly following along. Katara quietly tucks away this small tidbit of information. Zuko seems to march to the beat of his own drum, unless his uncle is involved.

It would be charming, except for the fact that he is actively trying to hunt down the Avatar.

Iroh gets up and pulls out a chair for Katara, who offers a demure thank you.

Part of her would like to bolt for the door and run while she still can. The other half of her is mystified by the current circumstances she is finding herself in. Dining with the Dragon of the West and the Fire Lord?

Toph suddenly getting her sight back would've been more believable than this.

"How is the room? Is it to your liking?" Iroh asks, ever attentive.

"It's perfect, thank you," Katara finds that she means it in earnest.

"Good. My rooms are just down the hall as are Zuko's -"

"Uncle!" Zuko snaps. "Have you forgotten? Need I remind you who you're talking to? This is the waterbender traveling with the Avatar, not the daughter of some Fire Nation nobleman!" He slaps a palm on the table, causing his plate to clatter, a tinny emphasis of his words.

Katara immediately flushes red, both with embarrassment and anger.

"Zuko," Iroh states sharply, the first time Katara hears this tone. "Please, sit."

"In case you've forgotten, Uncle, _I_ am the Fire Lord. We sit when I say we sit. We eat when I say we eat. But I guess I missed the part where you invite prisoners up to live like they're royalty?" _Like they're one of us?_ is the subtext, and Katara hones it in on like a hawk who has just found its next meal.

"You're such an arrogant ass and your manners suck for being a Fire Lord," Katara snipes, and she regrets it as soon as the words tumble out. Zuko freezes, his golden eyes lit with surprise first, anger second.

But Iroh immediately lets loose a loud laugh, as though Katara has told the world's funniest joke. Both Katara and Zuko share looks of bewilderment.

"I know I made the right choice turning down the instrumentalists tonight. This is far more entertaining. Oh, though I do see we are running out of tea."

And just like that, a brittle peace settles back over the dining table.

Katara casts a furtive look at the Fire Lord and finds that his attention is squarely set on the food in front of him.

It's funny, Katara realizes, to see a Fire Lord, who really looks more like a young boy, basically get reprimanded by his uncle. Here is the leader of a powerful nation, a fierce warrior, and he's getting admonished for not being polite. The cherry on top would be if Sokka and Toph were here to mercilessly make fun of him for it.

Instead, Katara tucks it safely away, committed to memory. She will save it for when she reunites with her friends as a funny story. Because she _will_ reunite with them.

Dinner ends up being an overall quiet affair after Zuko's initial outburst, and Katara is grateful for it. She wants to get out of there as much as he does. Iroh was right to a degree, she supposes, in that they both seem to have the same level of disgust for each other.

She has stuffed herself full, and Katara rises from her seat, politely bowing to Iroh and thanking him for the lovely food. Katara then turns to Zuko, and realizes she has a chance to earn back some modicum of respect from him, but instead opts to give a bow so shallow it is more of a snub, and before he can even do anything, she turns on her heel and leaves.

In hindsight, it was kind of stupid to depart so quickly, because she is a little turned around. Cursing her own stubbornness and streak of fire in her veins, Katara decides she will just have to guess the route back.

She takes several turns down hallways that she _thinks_ are familiar, but then why do these Fire Nation people have to make everything so uniform? Every vase looks the same, every tapestry beautifully similar, and the hallways seem to go on and on and on.

Finally, as she thinks about casting aside all hope and claiming a spot in the middle of a random hallway, she stops in her tracks.

She has arrived at an outdoor walkway, moonlight gently pooling around her.

Katara is instantly overcome with the beauty of a garden before her.

Even under the dark sky, the garden is lush and fragrant. A pond full of noisy turtle ducks sounds off to the right, not too far from where Katara stands at the threshold of the hallway and garden. Bright red-orange flowers bloom unapologetically. Katara wants to marvel at the sight of them, because they are beautiful, but she also remembers another waterbender, robbing them of their color, their life.

She remembers there are ugly parts of everyone, even those like her.

Deciding that fresh air is definitely needed after her many days spent underground, Katara sits on a bench by the pond and happily rips off tufts of the sticky bun she had swiped off the table as a midnight snack. The turtle ducks eagerly paddle over to the morsels of food that Katara throws, quacking loudly and somewhat demandingly. Katara belatedly realizes she has probably made a mistake in feeding the turtle ducks. Well, Zuko can add it to his list of Fire Lord duties.

Sitting there, lost in thought, she fails to hear the sound of footsteps approaching her. At the sound of soft grass crunching beneath booted feet, Katara looks up, alert written all over her face.

Shock turns to surprise turns to confusion turns to fear.

Behind her is Azula, looking ever the picture of a proper Fire Nation royalty with her aristocratic features and self-assured stance.

Katara wonders why she hasn't seen her until now, and then worries more about why she _is_ suddenly in front of her, and what she will do. While Zuko is a terrifying sight, he has nothing on his sister. She is downright vicious, less a dragon than a rattlesnake, ready to strike, her sly smile the only warning you get.

That, and Katara remembers when Azula struck Aang with lightning, his body falling into her arms, the feeling of grief and shock swallowing her whole.

Katara's chest tightens, struggling to keep her breathing even. Azula is a monster wrapped up in the image of a pretty Fire Nation princess, and Katara is doing everything in her power to not lash out at her.

"So it's you making all the racket out here," she frowns. "You know, they're never going to leave this garden now, you dumb peasant." And then, because it seems to be the most natural thing for Azula to do, she sends a blaze of blue fire with her index and middle fingers straight for the turtle ducks.

They quack and scatter, splashing water about, and Katara sits in numb shock.

"Problem solved," Azula states coolly, as though she has simply swatted away an annoying fly. "Now they won't keep hanging around here, begging for food."

Her sharp-eyed stare then turns on Katara, as though seeing and assessing her for the first time since walking into the garden. As though squaring off against her and killing Aang had been an uneventful memory.

"Let me guess, my dear old Uncle is behind all of…" she gesticulates with the errant wave of a hand in Katara's general direction, "this."

Katara finds she doesn't have the churlish response she had spent on Zuko. Zuko could be intimidating and hotheaded, but it is the cool, detached manner with which Azula approaches things that makes Katara think twice about running her mouth. So, she sits there in dumb silence, hoping she's too boring for Azula to deign hanging around any longer.

It almost seems to work as Azula stares at her with a flat look.

"And Zuko, pathetic excuse of a Fire Lord that he is, has done nothing to stop him. Typical," she snorts. Katara feels like what Azula is saying is treasonous, were it not for the fact that she is a princess and no one else is here to hear the words except a waterbender prisoner-turned-guest-question-mark and well...who would believe her anyway? And furthermore, why would Katara care to get involved?

"Were it up to me, you'd be out in Boiling Rock too. There's nothing special about you." Katara feels the words' sting but by this point, she expects the disdain. "Prisoners don't need preferential treatment. And that's all you are, in case you've forgotten. If Zuko had any sense, he'd throw you out. But then, I suppose you aren't much of a threat on your own, are you?" The worst part is, Azula says this all with a beautiful smile, as though she is chatting politely with a friend.

But Azula has a point, and Katara has to wonder...why _is_ Zuko the Fire Lord? She doesn't quite understand the royal Fire Nation lineage and the way their throne is passed down, but Azula is too ambitious to be second fiddle. Zuko is no less determined, Katara can definitely tell, but something about Azula strikes her as more calculating. She doesn't doubt for a second that Azula would get rid of her own brother to get the throne.

And maybe she will, but it's not Katara's place to care.

Just like that, Azula spins on her heel and walks away, leaving Katara alone to contemplate the perplexing royal family.

It's like they are all missing puzzle pieces but each belonging to a different picture, a different life.

It makes Katara miss her own family and friends all the more.

For the first time in a week, Katara allows herself to weep.


	4. Nonverbal Communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally caught up with FFN's posting. My plan is now to update both platforms at the same time. Probably once a week or once every two weeks, depending on schedule. Once again, thank you to everyone reading, commenting, bookmarking, subscribing, leaving kudos, etc. It means a lot, and I hope you continue to follow along and enjoy.

Katara wakes up as the sun starts to rise. Sleep didn't come easy to her, and she's finding it hard to feel comfortable in a place that has nothing reminding her of home. Even if it is more comfortable than a cell, it lacks any real warmth.

Getting up and dressed for the day, back in her own clothing thankfully after having it cleaned, Katara decides there is no point lounging about all day.

That, and her stomach growls for attention. It is best to not leave the beast unfed.

She wanders out of her room and is slowly making her way toward where she thinks the dining room is, until she looks out into the garden and sees none other than Fire Lord Zuko practicing drills.

She pauses, watching him with curiosity. He's clearly a formidable bender, anyone can see that. In this moment, Katara isn't surprised that she and the rest of her friends have had one hell of a time. The Fire Nation proves to be ruthless and determined, and it shows in their Fire Lord.

Before she can stop herself, Katara decides to take a detour.

She walks outside to the garden, Zuko's back to her. Katara feels a morbid sense of humor when she thinks about smacking him in the back of the head with some water but ultimately thinks twice about doing so.

So she opts for verbal mockery instead.

"You look kind of stupid practicing on your own," she calls out, a smirk on her lips.

Zuko immediately stills, body rigid with tension, before he leaps into another set of drills, never once turning to acknowledge her.

Katara frowns, brows knitting together.

How did Iroh expect her to get along with Zuko when all he did was either yell at her or just opt to ignore her?

Deciding she has some of her own steam to let off, Katara walks away from Zuko, toward the small pond. She easily bends some water, letting it flow around her in a small dance, and Zuko immediately stops.

"What are you doing?"

Katara's profile is in sharp relief, but she slants her eyes toward him, a small grin threatening to emerge.

"I told you, you look kind of stupid practicing without anyone. I'm alleviating you of that issue."

And before Zuko can retort, Katara has sent a wave of water coming his way. Though he is surprised, Zuko's reflexes prove to be top notch, and he easily blocks the move with a burst of fire. But Katara doesn't relent.

She is well aware that she is not exactly sparring in a friendly duel. There's real anger behind every thrust of water, every bit of ice that she forms. If the Fire Lord senses it, he says nothing and meets every attack with a strong defense and solid counter. They move rhythmically around the garden, a whirl of fire and water.

Katara finds she is actually breaking a sweat, and in the back of her mind, she can't help but feel it is nice to use her waterbending against someone who doesn't expect her to hold back, nor does he do so in return. Toph only spars when she feels like it, and Katara knows Aang is always reigning in the full extent of his abilities. Part of this comes from the fear he will hurt her again, like he did when he was first learning to firebend. But Zuko does not take these cautionary measures.

So here she is, finally facing an opponent who doesn't play on easy mode with her, and it's actually kind of fun.

If she can forget about the fact that it's the Fire Lord.

"You're not too bad," Katara calls, ducking down from a warm blast of fire, slicing water toward him to knock him off his feet.

Zuko easily jumps and dodges, a predatory smile on his face.

"In case you've forgotten, I _am_ the Fire Lord. This is nothing to me."

Katara grins, sweat trickling down her brow. She knows he's baiting her, but she doesn't exactly care.

When she bends, she can forget about everything else that haunts her. She can forget about the fact that she feels alone and disconnected from everyone she knows, she can forget about whether or not her father and Suki and the others are okay, and she can pretend that this is merely a bump in the road on the way to victory.

Eventually, they mutually decide to stop, each standing on opposite ends of the garden.

Katara belatedly notices for the first time that the Fire Lord is shirtless and her face almost bursts into flames. To avoid notice, Katara begins fidgeting with the hem of her sleeves.

As though reading her thoughts, Zuko throws back on a shirt and glances back in her direction, as if he had momentarily forgotten she was there.

"For a waterbender, you're not the worst I've come across."

Katara supposes it is meant to be a compliment...of a sort.

"Right back at you, Fire Lord." Sarcasm colors her tone, and Zuko scoffs almost good-naturedly. Almost.

Katara walks up closer to him, noticing that when the bending stops, everything seems to go right back to as it was. She is acutely aware that in Zuko's eyes, she is a pawn and nothing more. He is desperate to catch the Avatar, to prevent the Fire Nation from being taken down from its position of power. And what better way to lure Aang back than to grasp Katara in the palm of his hand?

Katara takes in a measured breath of air, well aware she may be pushing her luck.

"So...how did you get that scar?" she asks, genuinely curious and. _And how did you become Fire Lord at so young an age?_ is the unanswered question that lingers on the tip of her tongue.

Zuko straightens, and for a moment, Katara wonders if he's actually going to respond. She doesn't even realize she's holding her breath.

"That," he says in a clipped tone, "is none of your damn business."

And just like that, whatever tepid balance had been struck between them, vanishes like a ghost.

* * *

It is later in the day, and since their early morning spar, Katara hasn't seen a trace of the Fire Lord.

But Katara doesn't really mind, and right now, she is enjoying a cup of jasmine tea with Iroh, who has a surprisingly easy presence at nearly any given point in time. Katara does not feel unsettled or worried when she is with Iroh, and she supposes it's a small mercy while trapped in the Fire Nation palace.

"You are a very talented waterbender, Katara," Iroh muses as he sips his tea.

Katara balks, wondering where that came from.

Iroh laughs at the expression on her face.

"You two were causing quite a commotion out here. I simply had to wake up and see what was going on." A twinkle is in his gaze, and Katara wants to shrivel up and float away with the wind.

"I'm sorry," she grimaces. "I didn't realize we were being so lou-"

"Nonsense," Iroh waves a hand dismissively. "It is good to see him interact with others. He's never been particularly social, but ever since he became the Fire Lord, I have been worried."

Katara thinks Zuko would _not_ like to hear about this kind of conversation going on.

But it does leave her an opening.

"How did he become Fire Lord?" She asks, canting her head to the side. Katara can't explain why, but she feels like this is important to know. That it might reveal something crucial about the young Fire Lord.

Iroh smiles, almost as if he knows that Katara has been dying from curiosity.

"Have you asked him yourself?"

Katara snorts. "As if he would deign to talk to me."

Iroh laughs, his shoulders shaking with mirth. "Give it time. The story is not an easy one," the laughter subsides. "He is Fire Lord, and it was always his birthright, but it is not one he wanted so soon. He loved his father, you know."

Iroh looks wistful, and for a moment, Katara believes he is reliving a memory from long ago.

Katara thinks of her own parents, especially her father, and she can't help but feel the worries multiply again at the thought of him being in the Boiling Rock.

Iron seems to be aware of what plagues Katara's mind, and he leans over to pour more tea into her abandoned teacup.

"I cannot offer much at this point, but please rest assured he will be okay."

Katara knows he is talking about her father, but the words do little to soothe her. The Boiling Rock didn't earn its reputation without reason. Even if her father is strong and resilient, Katara fears it will not be enough.

Swallowing, Katara offers an absent smile to Iroh, deciding that talking about her fears right now will only give them license to overtake her mind entirely.

"So," she says, taking a sip of her tea, grateful for its calming warmth, "what happens if your plan doesn't work? I can barely get him to talk to me. And even if he does take the time to speak a few words in my presence, what's the likelihood he would actually listen? He's been hunting Aang for so long…"

Iroh remains silent for a moment, contemplating her words.

"I know I ask much of you. And I do not expect you to blindly trust me. But Zuko _is_ a good man, however misguided he is now. If you can imagine, he has not been surrounded by many...positive influences."

Katara's thoughts flit back to Azula, and her mood darkens. She supposes it is a miracle that Zuko isn't the spitting image of his sister's temperament.

"I've tried to be there for him, and at times, I feel like he is listening. But I know my words alone are not enough."

"And you somehow believe my words will carry weight? If he doesn't listen to you, Iroh, I don't know that I'm the next best thing," she shares a humorless smile.

"But you are proof of the world beyond here. You, your friends, and the Avatar. Not everyone on the outside is the enemy."

"Mm…" Katara gazes at the sky, lost in thought. She supposes it's true. The company Zuko has largely been in the presence of has all been ruthless in their own way...Zhao, Azula, and perhaps his father, given that Zuko won't even utter a word about their relationship.

"He at the very least sees you as a worthy opponent," Iroh lets out a hearty chuckle, and Katara feels her face flush with embarrassment. She isn't too sure about that, but she doesn't say anything to refute him.

"If nothing else, at least let me offer you reassurance that no matter what the outcome is, I will not allow you to remain stuck here." His tone is firmly resolved.

Katara's expression is one of confusion, unsure if she has heard him right. She knows that he is not some low-ranked individual, and she knows that for all his stubbornness, Zuko _does_ listen to Iroh...sort of. But can Iroh actually help her?

"I thought you wanted me to stay here…" she trails off, uncertain. "Besides, wouldn't Zuko get angry with you if you let me go? He's already pretty sour about the whole, me not being in a cell thing…" she waves her hand flippantly.

Iroh lets out another laugh. "Do not worry about my well-being. And while I certainly do appreciate any help you can provide an old man, I do know there will be opportunities well suited to helping you leave. You must remember that Zuko is the Fire Lord...he has a nation to run."

The subtext being, at some point or another, he would become too busy to remember a certain waterbender in his midst.

Katara somehow finds this hard to believe, given his obsession with hunting down the Avatar. Losing track of Katara's whereabouts is about as good as saying he is done chasing after the Avatar.

Katara bites her lip, chewing at it thoughtfully.

So far, stranger things have proven to be capable of happening, the proof of it being right here, right now, where Katara, a girl from the Southern Water Tribe, has found company with the Dragon of the West.

And it's actually pretty nice.

* * *

Zuko runs his hands through his hair for what feels like the thousandth time, the _millionth_ time. Advisors are up his butt so often and so frequently, that Zuko suddenly feels like dropping the mantle of Fire Lord and letting Azula's reign of terror begin.

But Zuko holds the ideas of honor and respect close to his heart, and he would never run away from this.

Even if he didn't exactly want it in the first place. At least, not so soon.

Either way, his council has been driving him up the wall, and it seems like every other day there is something pressing to attend to. The worst part of all of this, Zuko realizes, is that they hardly seem concerned about the Avatar's whereabouts.

In fact, they seem highly focused on the current state of affairs within the Fire Nation.

And the most recent subject that has plagued him has been the topic of marriage.

Marriage, he thinks, is the _last_ thing they should be concerned about. Did everyone just forget that the Avatar had rallied rebel forces to attempt to _invade_ the Fire Nation?! But for the advisors, the take home message has been of a different nature.

Their topics of conversation have shifted away from the Avatar and military strength and tactics, and instead converged onto the idea that Zuko needs to be married. Immediately. Zuko is fully aware that the deeper nuance is really more about being able to have a legitimate heir to continue the bloodline.

After all, even if the invasion had failed, who was to say more attempts wouldn't follow? And who was to say the Fire Lord would survive? Even though no one dares speak the thought aloud.

Zuko, unfortunately, has zoned out of what his advisors have been discussing, and it is only when one of the older men delicately coughs that he snaps to attention.

"Yes?" He grounds out.

"Well, my lord…" the man begins, shifting his glance from the Fire Lord, to his hands clasped on the table, and back to the other council members. Zuko thinks his name is Akito, but they honestly all kind of look the same to him. "We were suggesting that it is imperative you find a bride. Soon."

Zuko narrows his golden eyes, an unmistakably dragon-like visage.

"Soon?"

Akito looks like he may faint. "In a month's time." The next few words come in a rush, as he can already tell the Fire Lord is about to blow steam out of his nostrils. "It has been many months, my lord. The Fire Lord does not typically go this long without finding a bride. Normally it would already have been taken care of. The country grows concerned."

Zuko rises to his feet, hands clenching into tight fists.

"They grow concerned with the state of my marital status?"

"Y-Yes…" Akito bows sharply. "My lord," he adds hastily.

"What they _should_ be concerned with," Zuko begins, "is the fact that the Avatar and his rebel forces were able to breach the Fire Nation palace walls. _These_ walls in case you've forgotten!" He barks.

"And I will not sit here and be told that a _bride_ is of the utmost concern."

Another advisor rises to Akito's rescue.

"You must understand, Fire Lord Zuko. The Fire Nation grows fearful. What the people most need now is the image of strength and resilience. They need to know that there is nothing to fear! And what better way to display this than to begin the process of finding a bride? At the end of the month, there can be a celebration to announce your engagement, once you find a suitable bride."

Zuko stares at the advisor in stony silence, dumbstruck that for once, his council seems to be pushing against him.

He suddenly feels less like a Fire Lord and more like the young, spoiled Prince Zuko, always a boy and never a man worthy of respect and honor.

The headache that has been threatening to break all night long finally takes over, and Zuko walks away from his position at the head of the table, well aware of the half dozen pair of eyes trailing after him.

He reaches the doors to the council room, pauses, and then steps through.

If they're so damn worried, Zuko thinks, they can handle it themselves.


End file.
